Meet Shinji, Mindflight’s droll new co-mascot.

Nezumi here.  Mom’s busy working the camera and trying to get decent photos.  Something about “darn autofocus,” whatever that means.  I have bad news.  Very, very bad.

There’s a new cat in the house.  Do you hear me?  A NEW CAT.  For the first day or two I hissed at him all the time just to let him know who’s boss.  Then I eased up a little and just stole his food, and gave him the Demon Eyes when I saw him.  Then I just hissed at him when he meowed too much.

He’s something called a Siamese.  He looks funny, with stripes and pale patches and blue eyes and stuff.  He’s kinda small too, especially for a boy, and the Moms keep calling him “Minimeez” or “Permakitty.”  It’s a good thing they are both giving me treats and petting me a lot, or I’d have to evict him.

The other day, Mom laughed at me hissing at him, and said “remember when Orion used to hiss at you, back when you were a kitten?”  She thought that was pretty droll.  Orion was my best friend.  I still miss him.  It’s hard to imagine being hissed at by my adoptive dad!

The Moms told me all about Shinji.  He’s an old man!  He could be as much as fourteen years old, and I’m only eleven!  But he looks and acts like he’s three or so.  The Moms said I should be nice to him because his two legged mother died, and then his two cat friends, and he was living in a backyard, and he needs a loving home.

I might be nice to him.  Later.  After all, he is pretty good at ankle-winding, and the Moms like that.  For now I’ll just not growl at him.  Much.

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He’s not very good at having his picture taken yet, is he?  Oh well.  I’ll teach him everything I know.  Eventually.  Anyway, here’s me, the great Nezumi, signing off.  All this blogging has made me tired.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/droll/

 

Did somebody say fluffy?

Ohai.  I, Nezumi, have taken over the blog again.  You see, this is one of my favorite words.  Fluff.  Fluffy.  Or better yet, FLOOFY.

Mom, you see, keeps building up her Guitar Fingers and isn’t typing as much.  She keeps playing with the Twangy Thing.  I help by occupying her chair so she has more practice standing up while playing, and sometimes by sitting on her book so it can stay open to the right page.  She says she can’t read through my butt.  I wonder what she means?  She also keeps making these odd noises with the Twangy Thing and naming them with letters.  C, G, E, F, D, things like that.  I don’t care about letters unless G stands for Gooshy Food.  It helps me stay nice and fluffy!

Today I’ll share with you all my favorite pictures of my own fluffy self.

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See?  Even my paws are fluffy.

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Here is my amazingly fluffy belly.  I’m being Unicorn Cat.

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Now I’m in Super Extra Fluffy Mode.

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Now I’m guarding the house against bugs.  This is my favorite sunbeam.  Still fluffy.

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And now I’ll go back to “helping” Mom with her blog, once her fingers recover.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fluff/

Blogging from the blanket – feline telepathy

Mom changed her password again but I figured it out.

How did I figure it out? I can read her mind. Today I’m going to share a great feline secret. Cats, you see, are telepathic. There aren’t always a lot of thoughts to read in the average two legged, usually boring stuff like buying food and going to work and when the mail is coming, and hardly ever anything about mice or birds, but we can read them all the same. That’s how we know it’s time for bed, or time to get up, or time to go to work, or come home, or when our two-legged isn’t feeling well.

Mom is somewhat smart sometimes. The other day I was worried about my friend Thomas. He wasn’t in his usual spot in the window and every time I tried to talk to him I just got hurt-sick feelings. And then he went to The Vet. He even stayed away overnight! Feeling what he was going through made me feel pretty bad myself. But Mom figured out why I was sad, and she came to talk to me. She petted me and she told me Thomas would be okay.

Sure enough, a couple of days later, Thomas was there again, looking out his window at me. Our front windows are kitty-corner from each other, so we can see each other to talk. He gave me the slow blink to let me know he was okay. I purred and purred. Mom saw me looking and purred too, in her own way. Even Thomas’s Mom and Grandma were happy! I heard Mom tell Other Mom about it.

Mom did such a good job worrying about Thomas and understanding me that I figured I’d give her a break and write a blog entry for her.

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Cat-Mom’s Note:

Our girl Nezumi really did act sad when Thomas was sick.  Was it a smell?  A half-heard conversation?  Simply his absence in the window, that really is kitty-corner from us?  I’m not sure.  I do know that she was moping for a while, and really did perk up when I told her Thomas was being cared for and would be okay.  He needed a night in the hospital but he’s back to his old self again.

On another occasion, I had a very old dog.  She was mostly blind, mostly deaf, and was at that sleeping-most-of-the-time stage.  We loved her dearly but she was nearly at her end.  One night, she woke up from a sound sleep, barking with all her old fervor and running to the back of the house.  All the doors were closed.  I went out, because it seemed she was barking in the direction of the chicken coop.  I opened the back door, ran the fifty yards or so to the coop, and found raccoons attacking the hens.  How had the old dog known?  Closed doors, closed windows, senses nearly gone.  Yet, she knew.

I could go on with stories of how my cat Orion used to wait for me, looking to the east, when I was away to an eastern part of the state, several hundred miles away.  Or how he always knew when I’d be home, and was there to greet me, even if I was early or late.  Keen senses?  Perhaps.  Who knows?

via Daily Prompt: Blanket

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/blanket/

My fluffy security guard

Our site mascot, Nezumi, makes a good security guard.  She watches out the front blinds to make sure I get home safe, she puts us to bed when it’s time, and she does a great job of monitoring the neighborhood.  No bug or lizard is safe from her – if she can’t catch it herself, she’ll tell us it’s there.  Here she is with one of of our katanas.

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A great thing to have in Arizona is something called a security screen.  She loves to sit at them and we have one at the front and the back of the house.  It’s a heavy duty screen door with bars to prevent burglary.  They’re sturdy and I really like having them on my home.  They also make great lizard and bird watching stations.  Sometimes baby lizards crawl up ours.  Here’s one, looking out toward our tall back fence:

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Finally, here’s one of the things Nezumi doesn’t want coming inside.  Then again, she might really like it to come inside, but it wouldn’t want to once she found it!

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/security/

My gender is not abstract, I am not an “it!”

Nezumi here again. I’ve taken over Mom’s keyboard because there’s something that’s been bothering me more than the yappy dog next door. I’m really tired of being called “it!”

Yes, I’ve had The Operation. But, I am still very much a girl cat. You should hear my high pitched meow! Anybody looking at me can see I’m a girl cat. I’m not an “it.” If someone calls me that, they are calling me a “thing.” Do I look like a “thing?” So what if I don’t have my kitten factory? I still act and feel like a girl.

My adoptive father had the Operation too. He didn’t chase girls but he was definitely male. He didn’t think he was a female. And he was one of the best cats I’ve ever known.

It bugs me when other Two-leggeds do that to Mom, too. They call her an “It” if they can’t figure out if she’s male or femal. She’s not a thing any more than I am! She gives me gooshy food and skritches and everything a cat could want. She’s not a chair, or a scratching post, or some other thing that doesn’t move that might be called “it.”

Wait, here she comes, I should lie down and pretend to sleep again.

 

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via Daily Prompt: Abstract

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/abstract/

The Unseen Cat

I am completely unseen, she thinks.

I am Cat, finest predator the world has ever seen.

Pound for pound I am the strongest mammal in the world.

I can run thirty miles an hour, I have ears good enough that scientists have copied their shape when making new antennae, my bite is dangerous enough you should see a doctor if I sink fang very deeply into you, and I can see  in the darkest of night conditions.

Ancient civilizations worshiped me, and even after they stopped seeing me as a Goddess, they still saw me as a member of the family.

I am not really domesticated, still mostly wild, and I choose who I will love and who I will not.

Here I am, stalking the backyard Savannah, seeking prey.

Mom calls me Baby Bobcat.

I am Cat, and I am unseen.

 

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(The cat in the picture is a semi-feral tabby named Saia.  She really does think she’s a baby bobcat.  Picture taken by Lenore Plassman, who can be found writing over at the Creative Fancy site.)

 

via Daily Prompt: Unseen

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/unseen/